


Indelible

by avarand



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Magical Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avarand/pseuds/avarand
Summary: Anakin is a tattoo artist by profession. But some clientele are looking for more than just a tattoo. As a powerful caster from a long-standing clan, he offers a different sort of mark for those who need it. Obi-Wan is running from a dark coven intent on exploiting him for his gifts. He definitely needs Anakin's services.





	Indelible

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I've been wanting to write for a few days. I love tattoos and am heavily inked myself so I wanted to see where this took me.

Anakin couldn’t stand the typical weekend night crowds that flooded his shop. Frat boys wanting greek symbols and sorority girls asking for cherries or chinese characters they didn’t understand. He hated it, but it paid the bills. He’d been gifted with two things in life. An understanding of cars and an understanding of how to put ink into skin. 

He’d chosen the latter as his profession, becoming a certified tattoo artist at the age of 20. His maternal grandfather, Yoda, had drawn with him since he was a little boy and his mom had to work late shifts. He’d also, much to his mother’s chagrin, taught him magic. His mother was gifted with the craft as well but she rarely used it and didn’t approve of her son occasionally using it as part of his job. But sometimes something under his skin itched and he had to let it out. Sure he could work a spell at home like a normal witch or sorcerer, but his favorite outlet was imbuing his gift into permanent artwork. Such opportunities didn’t come along often but when they did they were always rewarding.

The shop was just about to close after another long Saturday night when an unusual patron walked in. He was more upper class than the usual clientele. His neat auburn hair and beard a dead giveaway. Anakin figured he was looking for more than the typical flash piece. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, not particularly interested. 

“I was hoping for a symbol of protection.” The ginger stranger replied. So he was one of Them. The magical community looking for enhancements. 

“What kind of protection and for what kind of caster?” Anakin asked, knowing only he and Ahsoka were left in the small shop. 

“A comprehensive kind for a diviner. I’m willing to pay, of course.” The posh tones spoke of a man used to getting his way. “I was thinking a sigil of the moon.” 

Anakin raised his eyebrows. That was powerful protection, indeed. “One session?” he asked. 

“Yes. As soon as possible.” The man must have been running from something strong and fast. 

“I can help you. But it won’t be cheap.” 

“I would expect no less.” The man produced a handful of coins and thread, more valuable than cash. Anakin locked the door, flipped the ‘Closed’ sign, and turned off all the lights except the one in the back room. He gestured for the man to follow him

“What wards do you need? I have to know to work the spells.” He got his client situated in the backroom, Ahsoka looking on in curiosity. 

“She’s my apprentice,” he said of the dark skinned girl. “She’s one of our kind. What do you need?” 

“Conflation. To make my enemies think I’m somewhere else. And protection from a powerful enemy should they find me.” 

“Any elemental preference?” Anakin asked. 

“Water.” The man responded. At least he wasn’t an idiot. Using any other element with a moon sigil would have weakened the spell.

“Alright, backroom, take your shirt off. I’ll get my inks ready.” 

Anakin wouldn’t admit it to many people but he lived for this. The magical aspect of ink. He had the ability to transfer magical intent into a kind of magic that only came about by mixing blood and skin with blessed ink. It was a powerful and deep kind of alchemy. He could leave permanent magic in people. Blessings, protections, wards against enemies...he had the power for it within his veins, and for a select few clients he could pass his gifts on, the magic just as permanent as the ink. 

“What’s your name?” he asked as he shaved his client’s back down with a simple razor. 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

“That’s a good name. An old one.” Magical circles were small enough that name recognition wasn’t uncommon. Magic seemed to pass genetically in almost all cases. 

“Maybe it used to be,” the man muttered. Anakin closed his eyes and willed the most effective lunar sigil for the case to come to his mind. Once he saw the image, he used a tracing pen on Obi-Wan’s skin, the mark going directly between his shoulder blades. For magical tattoos free hand was the only way that really worked for him. The stencil was an unnecessary middleman. 

“Take a look in the mirror before we make it permanent,” he told his client. As the shirtless man walked to the mirror in the back, Anakin appreciated that he was fairly attractive. Toned but not overly muscular and with a dignified manner that made Anakin curious about chasing that put-together aura out the window. He reminded himself that this was a client in need of serious protection and not here to be ogled. 

“It’s good,” the man said, returning to the chair that Ahsoka had sanitized. Anakin washed his hands and put on his gloves, applying a thin layer of Vaseline to the area. 

“Have you ever been tattooed before?” Anakin asked. The man’s perfect unblemished skin seemed to be begging for it. 

“No. But I can handle pain.” Was the stoic reply. 

“Alright. But if you need to take a break, tell me. People who forget to breathe through the pain tend to pass out, and then it’s a whole thing for me to deal with.” The man laughed a bit at Anakin’s pseudo-sarcasm and the artist appreciated the sound. 

The sigil was a geometric pattern inside a sphere, with small symbols representing certain lunar phases. The ancient symbols of waning stages represented what was hidden, and the strategically placed waxing symbols would grant strength if confronted by an enemy. He’d use black and dark blue inks, blending them to invoke the element of water. 

Ahsoka came in to sit and watch Anakin enchant the inks. He brought them out from the locked and warded cupboard he kept magical supplies in. He had to make them himself, including substances like mountain ash leaves and juniper stems, which had been collected from his garden at certain times of night and burned to fine ash. The pigments had to be carefully created to be as powerful as possible. 

He poured some black pigment into a large cap, then the blue. Finally he mixed a white paste with the blue ink to create a color that would accent and enhance the design. He used his favorite tattoo machine, the one he’d made himself and meticulously cleaned only a few moments ago. 

The inks laid out, Anakin focused his energy on them. He chanted softly and kept an image in his mind of how perfectly the sigil and colors would sit with the man’s skin and spirit. How lunar energies could keep things hidden in their shadows and provide a refuge for those in need. And if need be, use those shadows to defeat enemies. The words were old and a combination of languages. The Slavic tongue his mother and grandfather used as well as some latin mixed in. He could feel his energy waking the inks up, how they wanted to be of use and serve their purpose. When he opened his eyes he found his client turned around to look at him. 

“You’re quite powerful,” the bearded man said plainly. 

“Hm. My grandfather says I have too much. That’ll it’ll eventually attract bad things my way. But not using it feels horrible after a while. Like being stuck in a cell.” 

“I know the feeling,” Obi-Wan said softly. Anakin pulled a chair up behind his client as Obi-Wan straddled his own. For the placement this position would be easiest on both their backs. Ahsoka pulled her own chair up to watch. 

“Snips, could you make sure the salve is ready for when we’re done? He’ll need to take some with him.”

“The comfrey stuff?” Ahsoka clarified. 

“Yup. Practice your Healing intent on it.” 

“Sure thing, Skyguy.” He felt a bit bad for Ahsoka. She was dealing with finals at her high school and was exhausted. She probably could have used the extra hours of sleep, but it had been a while since they had a magical request and she needed to learn. 

He pressed the pedal that made his machine buzz to life and started in. He focused on Obi-Wan and on transferring his magic to this living canvas. Thoughts of protection, security, safety from ill-intent flooded his mind for the first part of the tattoo. He always lost himself like this. Time slipped away and became something you couldn’t measure with a clock or even words. He wiped as blood welled up, dipping his machine into the pigments again and continuing to leave magic grounded in skin. He pulled back, the first part of the tattoo which centered on protection was done. He’d have to take a break to recenter his intent. 

“Quick break,” he told his client. “We’re almost halfway done.” Obi-Wan stood and turned around and looked startled when he saw Anakin. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anakin assured his client. “It’s supposed to happen.” He was referring to his own tattoos, some of which only became visible when he practiced magic. He had one under his right eye, a thick red line that dropped into a curve at the end. There was also a fire sigil on the front of his neck that sometimes flickered as though caught in the light of a camp fire. His eyes were also likely changed. He knew that they filmed over and reds, oranges, and greys moved across them like particularly upset clouds in a stormy sky.

“I take it that fire is your element?” The man offered a half smile. 

“It is,” Anakin said, stretching and holstering his machine. “But don’t worry. When it comes to blood and ink I can work with any element. I just need a few minutes to channel a different kind of energy for the power ups in case you’re found. There’s water in that mini fridge if you want it.” 

The man nodded his thanks and Anakin sat in his chair in a semi-meditative state. He could feel power in his client and drew on it as well as his own to focus on the aggressive side of the piece. He thought of Obi-Wan being in danger and instilled a fierce sense of retaliation against anyone who would hurt him. Once he was ready he had the man sit back down and he resumed. 

“You must make quite a living off of your craft,” his client commented. 

“No. I don’t take every request for a magical tattoo. Not even most, actually. If I did half the practitioners in this town would be running around with elemental runes and sigils to attract love. Just as bad as all shitty flash out there and worse because it’s powerful.” 

Obi-Wan huffed at that. “So why did you accept my request?”

Anakin finished on of the battle sigils. “You’re genuine. This isn’t personal gain for you, it’s a tool in a survival kit. I don’t always read intents particularly well but you seemed honest. And I can read intent once I’m working with someone’s skin. So now I know you’re honest.” He paused after that. “And you’re not bad looking, which doesn’t hurt.” He couldn’t see Obi-Wan’s face but he knew he smiled at that. 

There wasn’t much talking after that. Anakin had finished the bulk of the piece, and now it was just the accented lighter blue left. 

He changed needles and began shading around the thicker outlines of the piece, creating soft swirls that offset the black and dark blue shapes. He wiped his client’s back one more time and leaned back. 

“Okay, you’re all set. Just sit like that for about ten more minutes. I wanna let it bleed a bit and then Ahsoka will get you set up with salve and bandaging. 

Anakin walked around so he could dispose of his inks and take his machine to the back for cleaning later. He snapped his black gloves off and tossed the in the hazardous waste bin along with the paper towels and anything else that had come into contact with blood or plasma. He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him the whole time. 

Anakin didn’t know what prompted it but he felt compelled to ask. “Are you safe for tonight?”

“Safer now than I was a couple of hours ago. I’ve been staying in a hotel and haven’t noticed anything strange there.”

“A hotel?” Anakin scoffed. For the kind of protection he’d paid for in the tattoo he needed to be somewhere safer than a hotel. “You could stay with us. Whatever is after you is serious. A hotel is no place for you to be with that kind of trouble.” 

“No, I can’t risk you being in danger. You’ve already done enough by working such powerful magic for me. If the man chasing me is here, he could have felt it.” 

“Then I’d be a target anyway. You may as well stay somewhere with real wards. Ahsoka and I have a small house just outside the city and a couch that pretty comfortable. Plus you might need help applying salve to your own back for a few days.” Anakin noticed how tired Obi-Wan looked suddenly. He’d clearly been on the run for some time. “Come on. Home cooked meals and better magical protection. At least for a day or two. Our kind has to look out for each other.” 

“Alright, I suppose it would be nice to rely on more than traveler’s wards. Thank you, it’s very kind of you.”

Anakin grinned. “No problem. Oh, and I didn’t tell you my name. Anakin Skywalker,” he said, pulling a new trash bag out. “Nice to meet you.” He smiled at the ginger man. “And this is Ahsoka Tano.” The girl smiled tiredly and pushed her braids behind her ear, approaching Obi-Wan with the salve. 

Anakin inspected it. “Nice job, Snips. This has a really good energy.” 

“Duh. I do know how to make healing salves after over a year of being your apprentice.” 

“I love you too,” he smiled back. Ahsoka put on a glove and spread the salve over the fresh tattoo. Then she used paper towels and saran wrap to create a temporary bandage. “You can take that off after a couple hours. It’s really to prevent blood and plasma from getting on everything you touch and minimizing risk for infection. Ahsoka and I can follow you to your hotel if you need to get your stuff.”

Obi-Wan nodded and the two artists got to shutting down the shop. Anakin noticed as Obi-Wan exited the hotel that he didn’t have much. Just one suitcase. 

“Are you sure about taking in someone who’s on the run?” Ahsoka asked. 

“I have a good feeling about him. Plus I took you in,” he grinned. Ahsoka had to give him that. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing as he followed Anakin and Ahsoka down the highway. What if they told people about him? What if they wanted to use him for his abilities? Though someone as powerful as Anakin likely wouldn’t have need of them. Even as they’d left the shop the man’s eyes looked like a grey sky with red clouds. It was so otherworldly and frankly beautiful. Ahsoka had told him that when Anakin worked strong magic that happened. He usually had to go for a run or a work out in order for the energy to dissipate. Or as she’d insinuated, other activities would do the trick. He was a bit troubled that someone as young as Ahsoka was romantically involved with her employer but it was none of his business. 

Perhaps he’d get some actual sleep tonight. These days his sleep was plagued with nightmares of the syndicate chasing him. He was running not just from one man in particular, but that man’s coven. They dealt exclusively in dark magic and they wanted Obi-Wan. And there was another catch. What if Anakin and Ahsoka found out that he wasn’t just a diviner? Diviners and seers weren’t particularly uncommon in their community. But Obi-Wan was a blood mage. If he had a sample of someone’s blood he could manipulate them. He wouldn’t, of course, but he could. And words written in his blood were more powerful than runes or sacrifices in spell work. The fact that his blood had magical properties also gave him visions from time to time of events that could sometimes be prevented or encouraged. Frankly he hated what he was. It had never brought him anything but trouble. He’d rather be an elemental caster like Anakin and Ahsoka. Or nothing at all. Just a normal person with a job and a family. And now the leader of a dark coven wanted him for his power. He’d seen in visions what the man wanted. To torture him, use his blood, convince him to become dark and gain power for them. He’d die first. 

Pulling his thoughts together he noticed they were approaching their destination. Finally, after many dark and winding side roads, Anakin’s car pulled up in front of a modest two story wooden home. Obi-Wan could feel the powerful protective wards and shields everywhere. He followed the artists up the small set of steps, suitcase in hand. Anakin keyed open the door and turned on the lights. 

“It’s not much but it’s home.” He said, sweeping his arm out. There was a living room with a large but beaten looking couch and a small kitchen behind it. “The bathroom is down that hallway. My room is at the end of it. Ahsoka’s room is upstairs along with a second bathroom. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen whenever you want. Though I’m going whip up some stir fry if you want any.” 

The interior was warm and welcoming. It spoke of being well lived in but not neglected. There were pictures on the walls of Anakin and a woman that looked to be his mother. He assumed the small elderly man was his grandfather. There were some of him and Ahsoka, his arm around her and her often making faces at him.

He cleaned up in the bathroom and went back to the kitchen to see if he could be of use for dinner, late as it was. Ahsoka was already at the small dinner table, SAT prep books and chemistry notes spread about. Was Anakin in a relationship with a high schooler?! 

Ahsoka looked up. “Hey, do you happen to know anything about trigonometry? I have a test in a couple days.” 

Obi-Wan usually prided himself on having tact but he found the words coming out of his mouth of their own accord. “Are the two of you dating?”

Ahsoka stared at him and burst into peals of laughter. He could also hear Anakin’s amused huffs as he chopped vegetables. 

“I promise, I don’t date minors,” Anakin said, grinning at him.

“Anakin took me in,” Ahsoka said. “Our families were in the same community growing up. But then my dad did something unforgivable and was banished. My mom couldn’t handle it so she bailed. I was thirteen and Anakin was nineteen and already a tattoo apprentice with a caster. He caught me trying to break into a place nearby one night.” 

“My mom and grandfather were off traveling and I was already living on my own,” Anakin added. “This place was my dad’s and he willed it to me. So I told Ahsoka she could crash with me. Eventually we pulled some strings and my mom became her legal guardian, even though they’d never met.” 

“But Skyguy’s my actual guardian. I mean he’s the one who technically took me in and made sure I was going to school and eating. Then I started hanging around his shop and decided that I wanted to be a tattoo artist, too.” 

Obi-Wan felt foolish though relieved as well. “I apologize for my assumption. I just wanted to make sure that no one was being taken advantage of.” 

“It’s fine,” Anakin smiled. “Wanna help chop some of these vegetables up?” Obi-Wan complied readily. They worked in an easy silence, Ahsoka studying and Anakin and himself making food. Anakin seasoned the vegetable and rice in a way that smelled fantastic. “Ahsoka, can you clean the table off so we can eat on it?” He asked his charge, who grumbled good naturedly but did so. 

Anakin poured wine for himself and Obi-Wan as they all sat down to eat. The food was simple but it was the best Obi-Wan had had in a long time. Afterwards Ahsoka yawned and headed upstairs for bed. Obi-Wan insisted on cleaning up but Anakin pointed out he’d helped cook, so they’d both do it. When dinner was cleaned up Obi-Wan was given a clean towel and instructions to wash his tattoo with unscented soap. 

However as soon as he was in the bathroom with his shirt off, he realized his problem. “Um, Anakin?” he called out. The tall man was instantly in the doorway, eyes still looking inhuman. He grinned and gestured for Obi-Wan to turn around. He gently undid the bandaging and and pulled the wrap and paper towels off, tying them off in a trash bag. 

“Need help washing this?” With Anakin’s full height and deep voice just behind him, Obi-Wan had to fight the thrill of want that went through his body. He collected his dignity as best he could. 

“Yes, I don’t think I can reach.” 

“Okay, sit on the edge.” Obi-Wan sat on the edge of the tub as Anakin turned the shower head on. He got to a warm temperature before directing it at Obi-Wan’s back. Anakin’s warm hands soothed the liquid soap down his back and Obi-Wan had to close his eyes at how good it felt. All too soon Anakin stood. “Did you uh, need me to leave so you can take a full shower?” 

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and knew they probably looked glazed. “Yes, after hotels and sleeping in my car, I’d like to take a full shower.” 

Anakin nodded and was gone, the bathroom door closed. Obi-Wan sighed. He was in trouble. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In his room, Anakin berated himself for getting so close. ‘Oh sure, invite the stranger on the run home because you think he’s hot. Then practically give him a bath. As if someone like him wants anything to do with a caster who spends his energy on tattoos.’ The guy was polished, handsome, intelligent, and polite. He could have anyone he wanted. Anakin seemed to only attract people who were more into his profession than they were into him. There’d only been one person in his life who didn’t treat him like a free tattoo connection and he’d taken off the second he realized that Anakin wasn’t just a guy who thought Wicca was cool, but that he cast actual spells and his eyes sometimes didn’t look normal. In fact Ferus had arrived unannounced at his house while Anakin had been working a consecration spell on the garden, seen his eyes, yelled something about him being demonic, and he’d never seen him again. Ahsoka said she never like the asshole anyway and how was Anakin supposed to really trust anyone if they couldn’t handle a simple spell?

Obi-Wan could clearly handle a lot, which made it all the more unfair that he was almost certainly unattainable. Anakin heard the shower shut off and Obi-Wan emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of sweatpants Anakin had loaned him and nothing else. “You should air dry,” Anakin said. “The tattoo, I mean, let it air dry and then I’ll put more salve on it. I can make tea while it dries, to encourage healing.” ‘God, smooth, real smooth, Skywalker’, he thought.

He took the infuser in the kitchen and made quick work of brewing an herbal tea. He kept it on hand with as clumsy as he and Ahsoka could be. His guest accepted a cup and the sat in the quiet kitchen. 

“I really can’t thank you enough,” Obi-Wan said, breaking the silence. “You’ve done so much for me and you had no reason to trust me.” 

“Mom always taught me to do right be people. Especially people who need a little help.” 

“It shows in you,” Obi-Wan smiled. People strong in the fire element were rumored to be quick tempered, unpleasant, and manipulative. But Anakin had always taken pride in breaking stereotypes.

“We should get that salve on you so you can get some sleep,” Anakin said. “Come on, I keep a ton of it in my room.” He led Obi-Wan back down the hallway and into his bedroom. It was a pretty simple room, if cluttered with drawings. He had a large sketch pad up on an easel and charcoals laid out seemingly everywhere. Drawings he was still working on were taped to the walls. Some of them magical in nature but many of them portraits, still lifes of flowers, animals mid motion or profiles of wolves and large cats. Some were marked with client names and dates. Anakin watched as Obi-Wan made his way to a charcoal portrait of Ahsoka he was working on. 

“You’re incredibly talented,” Obi-Wan said. “I mean with magic, obviously, but you’re a very gifted artist.” Anakin tried not to blush and failed. 

“Thanks. I’ve only been good at a few things in my life. I was lucky to be able to make a living at it.” He dug through his nightstand for the salve, purposefully pushing the lube to the back of the drawer. 

“I very much doubt it’s luck. Not many people in the world share your skill set. And you’ve clearly put in long hours to perfect your artistry.” Anakin pulled a jar of the comfrey salve out and unscrewed the lid. He looked up and caught Obi-Wan staring at him. The man wasn’t just looking but actually staring. Oh, right, his eyes. 

“I know the eye thing puts people off. By tomorrow they’ll be back to normal though,” he stammered. He brushed his hair behind his ear self-consciously. 

“No, I’m sorry for staring. It’s just they’re quite beautiful.” Oh. No one had ever said that about his eyes when they were sparking restlessly with the remnants of magic. And Obi-Wan was still looking at him, his pale skin a bit flushed. Gods, did he, did he want Anakin? Well, fire was the element of rash decisions, as his mother always reminded him. 

He approached the older man Obi-Wan didn’t back away or make an excuse. Anakin stood toe to toe with him, looking down slightly because of his height and then he ducked down that last little bit and pressed his lips against Obi-Wan’s. It wasn’t forceful but it wasn’t a gentle touch either. It was insistent, sure of Anakin’s intent. 

He was about to pull away, ready to assure the man that he would never expect physical comfort in exchange for shelter when Obi-Wan put a hand in his hair and kissed back. He felt the man’s tongue against his lips and gladly opened, moaning as a hot tongue slid into his mouth. Anakin put an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and gently walked them back to his bed. He sat down on the edge, tugging the auburn haired man down with him. “You don’t have to,” Anakin panted out as Obi-Wan’s hands went under the hem of his black t shirt. 

There was a tug of teeth on his lower lip at that. “I know,” he said. “I just very much want to.” And there was no arguing with that. Anakin helped get his own shirt off and attacked the man’s neck, working his way from ear to shoulder, mouth hot and tongue sliding over where teeth scraped. He felt Obi-Wan moan and push him back onto the bed. Obi-Wan was gazing at his chest, fingers reaching out to touch the tattoos there. 

A large phoenix covered most of Anakin’s right side, from hip bone just underneath his armpit. A stylized fox sat on his right pectoral, curled in sleep under stars that covered his collar bone. His own sigil of protection reached from the middle of his left collarbone down to just above his navel. It was a complicated geometric pattern in blacks and reds, meant to enhance power and his ability to protect his loved ones. He’d had it done just after Ahsoka had officially become part of his family. There were other, smaller marks scattered about his chest. Some he’d done himself and others were from friends. Mostly small runes, brief incantations that only those raised by magic folk would know. And that was just his torso. Obi-Wan had already seen his arms which were fully saturated by ink.

“So beautiful,” Obi-Wan murmured, tracing the fire sigil down his body with two fingers. Having another magic user touching him like that felt incredible. He could feel the lines and colors hum approvingly along his body. It was a very new and very appreciated experience. He pulled Obi Wan into another kiss and onto his lap. Gods, they were both already hard. He ran his nails lightly down that pale chest, then moved up to bite at already peaked nipples. Obi-Wan tugged his hair at that and fuck it was good. He was mindful of the fresh ink between the man’s shoulder blades but thoroughly enjoyed licking and sucking at his chest. 

When Obi-Wan returned the favor Anakin groaned and made to get his pants off as soon as possible. He wanted to take his time but the magic from his work earlier demanded a release soon, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get another chance to be with this man. With little effort they were both naked and it was Anakin’s turn to admire his partner. He sucked marks into the chest as Obi-Wan groaned and pulled at his hair so perfectly. He moved his hands down until they brushed at the erect cock. He suddenly very much needed to have that in his mouth. Standing, he pulled Obi-Wan to the edge of the bed and got on his knees. 

“Oh, Anakin,” the man moaned, pupils blown at the sight of him on his knees. If that wasn’t hot Anakin wasn’t sure what was. He started with the base of the man’s cock, slowly sliding up it, sucking at parts of it along the way. He swirled his tongue around the head and started taking the length in earnest, using his tongue to keep the cock wet, letting his saliva move down it and make it easier. Obi-Wan was panting and swearing and Anakin reached down to tease his own erection. He loved the weight against his tongue and he wanted to swallow around the man again and again. 

Suddenly the hands in his hair were tugging him up. Anakin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, concerned. “Not what you like?” he asked. 

“No, it was perfect. Too good. But that’s not how I want to come.” 

He stood partially and pressed a filthy, open mouthed kiss to his partner’s lips. “How do you want to come?” He was pretty sure he’d let this man do just about anything he wanted to him. 

“I want to fuck you,” he said bluntly, eyes and voice dark. And Anakin was so on board with that plan. He could barely the remember the last time he’d had anything in him that wasn’t his dildo. 

He scrambled around in the bedside drawer and found the lube. “Shit! I don’t have any condoms. It’s uh, it’s been awhile,” he said. 

Obi-Wan took the lube and gave him a serious look. “I don’t have any either. But I can tell you that I’ve been tested recently and I’m clean. But it’s up to you. You’d be taking the larger risk.” 

“I’m clean,” Anakin nodded, leaning in for another kiss. “I work with needles so I get tested every three months in case. Hasn’t been anyone since then.” Obi-Wan nodded and brought him back for a lengthy kiss. He took the bottle of lube from Anakin and pushed the younger man back against the pillows. Coating his fingers he left his own marks on Anakin’s chest as one of his fingers circled gently around the tight entrance. Once he Anakin relaxed, he felt Obi-Wan’s index finger slide in, and the man moved down his body to tease his cock with small licks. Anakin groaned and placed the flats of his feet on the mattress, giving his partner better access. Then there was a second finger and it burned a bit but it was so worth it. For long minutes Obi-Wan just played with him like that, scissoring his fingers, licking at his cock and balls until Anakin thought he could just die like that and be happy. 

Then Obi-Wan prodded a bit, curled his fingers slightly and Anakin shouted in pleasure. He wanted to touch himself but he didn’t want Obi-Wan’s mouth to go anywhere. A third finger stretched him and fuck, he just needed the man’s cock inside him right now. 

“Just a bit more patience,” Obi-Wan murmured, laughing a bit. Anakin protested but all he could manage was a thrust of his hips and and a something that sounded like “un”. Then the man was pushing the hair back from Anakin's face and lining himself up. He pushed in gently, the first ring of muscle protesting a bit but the pain was so perfect. 

“Alright?” Obi-Wan asked. He appreciated the concern but he needed more than concern. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” Anakin ground out. He knew his eyes but be dark grey and red now but he didn’t care. “I need it so much.” The magic was pushing him and he didn’t care if he was begging. Hell, Obi-Wan seemed to like it. His partner withdrew and pushed back in hard, causing Anakin to cry out and buck his hips again. He wrapped his ankles around the man’s lower back, digging his nails in hard. 

“Is this what you need?” Obi-Wan demanded, pounding in again, cock brushing Anakin’s prostate. 

“Yes, yes,” was all he could manage. Obi-Wan changed the angle of his hips a bit and started fucking him in earnest, hard and hot and so perfect. He was so hard it hurt and god he didn’t think he’d ever been fucked like this when he really needed it. “Love it, so good,” he said against Obi-Wan’s skin. 

Obi-Wan was just as gone as he was, fingers leaving bruises in his hips and looking up at him, Anakin knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The sight of the composed man, lost in passion while he could feel his cock filling him up was hot as hell. He felt his orgasm building and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wrapped his own hand around his leaking shafted and started pumping. He didn’t scream as he came but it was a near thing. His vision went white for a moment as he felt his body let go of the energy magic it had been holding for too long. 

He didn’t realize it but he must have passed out for a moment. When he opened his eyes Obi-Wan was sitting beside him, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. He moaned happily at the sensation of cum running out of him. 

“Are you alright?” The grey-green eyes were concerned but he caught the edge of smugness and grinned up at him. 

“I’m very good,” he laughed, standing to go clean himself properly in the bathroom. When he came back Obi-Wan already had his sweatpants back on. “You should sleep here,” he smiled widely. “I have an extra comforter and it’s nicer than the couch.” 

Obi-Wan laughed and got into bed. 

“What’s so funny?” Anakin asked, feigning indignance. 

“You look practically stoned,” his bedmate laughed. 

“It’s an endorphin thing after the magic releases,” he murmured, instructing Obi-Wan to turn over so he could apply the salve to his tattoo. 

“I could feel it, the magic.” Obi-Wan said. “It was incredible. Like this tidal wave of energy with your personal signature on it. It felt like...blood and ink and the heat from a fire place.” 

“No one’s ever said they felt it before,” Anakin mused, finishing his application of the ointment. He was basically stoned, and very sleepy. He used the wet cloth to wipe his hands and turned off the light, leaving only the bedside lamp. Getting comfortable in bed he turned towards Obi-Wan and said a soft good night. The last thing he felt was a kiss against his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I think I'll write a one shot and as soon as I'm done a find myself wanting to add to it. Please review if you have a sec. Comments are always shamelessly begged for and constructive criticism is more than welcome.


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